Go Fourth
by Stephen Ratliff
Summary: T'Pol has made a decision about something Trip left her.
1. Chapter 1

**Go Fourth**

ASC Story Header

Title: Go Fourth

Author: Stephen

Series: ENT

Rating: [PG-13]

Codes: T/Tu

Summary: T'Pol has made a decision about something Trip left her.

...

It was not logical, that was one thing that T'Pol knew. Then again, any relationship with any human was not founded in logic. Humans were, as Ambassador Soval once told her, the anti-logic. A more irrational species, T'Pol had not come across. Given the ten years that she had spent exploring on the Enterprise NX-01 as Captain Archer's First and Science Officer, that was considered to be a well informed opinion.

Charles "Trip" Tucker III had been part of T'Pol's life since the day she came on board the Enterprise. It was Trip who had explained, rather forcefully what was behind the Captain's command. If it was not for him, T'Pol was sure she would have turned that ship around when they lost the Klingon, and the Galaxy would have been entirely different. Her one decision, based on his urging, would end up being a turning point in history.

T'Pol chided herself for that conceit. One might as well say that their first offspring, the short-lived, yet much loved, Elizabeth was a turning point. Then again, maybe she was. She certainly was the image of Terra Prime, and if it wasn't for that crisis, the Captain would not have become the unifying figure and spokesperson that became the driving force behind what was now the Coalition of Planets.

She had spoke to the Captain, when Trip's final bequest had arrived. He'd always be the Captain to her, and all of the crew of the Enterprise who had served under him all those years. They may have promoted him, but to them and to history, that was his title. His advice to her was simple, though she was sure that he was not going to like the results. He'd thought what Trip had wanted was obvious, and it was her decision as to if and when she did it.

If was a question whose answer was answered the moment she'd read it. When, well, she was certain that the Captain did not expect one of his Captains to chose to do this, just a few weeks before her ship, the CSS John Glenn, was about to depart for a one year mission on the edge of explored space.

She nodded at the doctor between her legs, and he began the process of implanting the fertilized ova. As T'Pol laid back, she let her mind drift back to that night following Elizabeth's death, the night that everything had changed

...

Trip had been crying over their dead daughter, the daughter which had never really had a chance to live, and they had not been asked to create. T'Pol had arrived, intending to initiate another session of neuropressure, but something about the way Trip was gazing out the portal changed her approach. He stood there, in just his underpants, not really dried from his just completed shower.

T'Pol could feel their connection, and his sorrow. Gently she approached him, molding herself instinctually to his back, sending comfort over the bond that they had inadvertently made. With her breasts pushed against his damp back, and her arms around him, Trip let his tears flow. She knew her bondmate needed this.

As she held him, through their bond, Trip shared his dreams. They were dreams of her. Dreams of Elizabeth. Dreams of family. The dreams showed her a life of gentle family life, one that she soon began to ache for. Neither noticed the time, nor the fact that they'd turned to face one another.

T'Pol found herself placing herself into those dreams, modifying them here and there to fit her Vulcan sensibilities and in the process teaching Trip about some of them. Together they built a future world in their minds. Only when they'd finished and pulled back, did they realize that they were laying together on Trip's bed, naked.

Neither would be able to tell who initiated that night's passion, their first. It washed away all their troubles, allowing them to forget the world as they sought the ultimate pleasure in their joining, and found it. The bond that resulted had only broken with his death.

They never spoke of that night, nor any other night were they sought comfort in each other. To the crew, it seemed as if Elizabeth's death had ended what they saw as a budding romance. They didn't know what went on over their bond, the bond that seemed to deepen every time, every night.

Physical intimacy, that they had avoided, some how. Not because it was unwanted, but because it was unnecessary. Their copopulating would not create children, that would require a lab, and through the bond, one could make the other feel every bit as good as each other's presence, something that Trip had delighted in doing to T'Pol at the most inopportune moments.

...

As soon as the doctors confirmed successful implantation, T'Pol called for her ship to beam her up. The Coalition of Planets Starship John Glenn, or the Glenn to her crew, had a year long exploration mission to attend to, and Vulcan was the last step before the Glenn left Coalition Space.

T'Pol was sure that Captain Archer was not going to like it when he found out what she had just done. She reflected on the Captain's likely reaction for a moment. T'Pol knew that it wouldn't take long for the Captain to order her relief. She would have to make sure that her crew was in on her plans. It would help that T'Pol had managed to score the entire Engineering section of the NX-01 for her crew, as well as Lieutenant Sato and her first officer, Commander Kelso. She hadn't been able to get Lieutenant Mayweather, Captain Sharn had him and Commander Reed on the Armstrong.

On the Armstrong Class Starships, the transporter actually had it's own room, not a large one, but sufficient for an operator and a waiting party. Commander Kelso and Lieutenant Sato were waiting for her.

"So, Captain, are you finished with everything you need to do on Vulcan?" Kelso asked after they'd exchanged greetings.

"I have, Commander," T'Pol responded as they walked towards the Bridge. "I believe it is time for us to depart. As soon as everyone is aboard, we'll depart with a full speed run. I want to test how the ship runs at high warp with an extended run before we leave Coalition Space."

"Yes sir," Kelso replied. "Everyone is aboard so we can go forth at any time."

T'Pol nodded, inwardly thinking that she had her own little fourth to go. It was time to begin her mission. She intended to finish it, even with the baby that had been implanted within her. The door opened onto the bridge. With a few long strides she moved to sit in the center seat. "Ladies, Gentlemen, as Captain Archer once said, it's time to begin our mission. Mister Sarok, set a course 10 mark 82, full impulse until we reach a safe distance, then warp 5. Commander Kelso. Let's go forth."

The John Glenn left orbit of Vulcan in such a hurry, that if there were Vulcan tabloids (which there are not) they would be talking about it for months. Even without the aid of the tabloids, the departure did make its way around Coalition Space, and eventually into Admiral Archer's ears. When learning of the departure, he only smiled, and remarked that Captain T'Pol was already preforming better than he expected.

...

Note: This story currently ends here. However I have serveral options for continuing that I've thought of for years.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The Chief Medical Officer on the Coalition Starship John Glenn entered Sickbay mildly annoyed. She was a Vulcan, so that was all she would admit to. One would expect that seventy-five days after their departure from Vulcan and sixty-nine days after leaving Coalition Space on their year long exploratory mission, the novelty of the young female's name would have worn off. Or at least they would be out of puns for it. It was a perfectly good Vulcan name, in fact the year that T'Cent had been born it had been the seventh most popular choice for on Vulcan.

There were eighty-two beings serving aboard the Glenn, and T'Cent served as their sole doctor. That position, as Commander Kelso had said, demanded respect, or at least the sense not to offend her in her presence. Unfortunately the Vulcan unemotional reputation was working against her, at least among the two score of humans that filled the bulk of the ship's crew.

One good thing about the humans, though. All of them were up-to-date on their physicals. The same could not be said for the Vulcan Captain of the Glenn. True, she had a physical on Vulcan, but the record just declared her perfectly healthy. It's lack of detail bothered T'Cent. It was atypical from the source, though perfectly within the requirements for clean physical on an existing officer.

As she turned into the main ward, she discovered the Captain waiting. T'Pol was seated on a stool, and looked a bit pale. "Doctor, I believe I require something for periodic nausea," the Captain said in an even tone. "I believe that adnauseam is recommended."

"I see, despite not being a doctor, you have decided on that prescription," T'Cent noted, standing before the Captain with her hands on her hips. "Given the state of your medical records, which I have been after you for a physical, you are not getting anything until I am sure it is the best option for you."

"I see, and if Doctor Sivul che' Sylock indicated that it was the recommended treatment for my current condition," T'Pol began, "Would that change your position? Or perhaps the fact that my condition is currently under the seal of che' Has'noc?"

T'Cent's left eyebrow rose. The seal of che' Has'noc was an unique portion of Vulcan's medical rules, dating from the time before Surak, when Vulcan's passions had led to war and genocide. It only applied, however, to those that bore the child of a dying line. No one could be told the Captain's condition, not under the seal. Oh, any restrictions required by her condition could be enforced, but T'Cent couldn't tell anyone why, not without the release of the doctor who had placed the seal and T'Pol herself. To do so would forever exile the doctor from Vulcan.

"I shall release the full record to you," T'Pol said. "I'm sure that this need not go any further than this room."

"You do realized that you won't be able to hide this forever," T'Cent said, as T'Pol typed a command into the Sickbay Computer. The Captain's record immediately expanded, and T'Cent began to read through it.

"I do realize that," T'Pol said, her hand resting on her still flat belly. "The simple expansion of my abdomen will probably reveal it. If I were a betting person, like some humans, I believe that Lieutenant Sato will be the first to realize it."

"The odds are in your favor on that," T'Cent said, moving over to set up the hypo. "Commander Kelso will be the last to know. I shall administer a dose of adnauseam now, and proscribe a pill form for every morning for the next week. Remember to take it before you sit up. I want to see you weekly. Given the situation, 0530 hours would probably be the best time."

"Understood Doctor."

...

In orbit of Neptune was the starship Enterprise, NX-01. In a few weeks she would be docked to the newly completed fleet museum. It was why the ship had been decommissioned, when the others of it's class were still in operation. As a historic vessel, it would be the center piece.

In it's engine room was the coffin of it's Chief Engineer, Charles Tucker III, or Trip as everyone had known him. It was a temporary resting place for the chief. No one seemed to know where he'd end up, but for now, it was fitting.

What wasn't fitting was the seal of the vessel that had just docked to the Enterprise. If he were alive, Trip would have been most upset at the multiple attempts the vessel took to dock, mainly because they were scratching his hull. Then again, they weren't supposed to be docking there at all.

This was the closest vessel to the ship that had gotten them this far, and the seven that boarded the Enterprise had parsecs to go. They had to go, it was imperative, and with just a bit of work, this ship would take them there.

The leader ran his hand over his large floppy ears and headed to the Bridge.

...

Author's Note:

Feedback will help me develop this story. Critiques, Comments, Complaints, and Compliments eagerly accepted


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